


Third

by firesign10



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker Sex, Dom/sub, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker, Multi, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-30 18:52:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8545135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firesign10/pseuds/firesign10
Summary: Kevin's life is nothing like he'd thought it would be. Instead of attending Princeton, he's living in a crappy houseboat, trying to translate some ridiculously indecipherable language scratched onto a rock, gobbling bad fast food and hardly getting any sleep. Oh, and he's a Prophet. Not that any perks seem to go along with that position.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2016 [Kevin Big Bang](kevinbigbang.tumbler.com). I was fortunate enough to be selected by two artists, [amberdreams](amberdreams.livejournal.com)and [emma](emmatheslayer.livejournal.com). Thank you both so much for the great pieces you created!
> 
> Thanks to [balder12](balder12.livejournal.com) and [dustyjournal](dustyjournal.livejournal.com) for running this fun challenge! Thanks to my writing war companions [theatregirl7299](theatregirl7299.livejournal.com) and [miri_thompson](miri_thompson.livejournal.com) for support and feedback as I wrote it, and [roxymissrose](roxymissrose.livejournal.com) for her support and alpha read.

[ ](http://ic.pics.livejournal.com/firesign10/4507356/100033/100033_original.jpg)

“Leave me alone!”

Kevin hopped into the houseboat's berth and slammed the metal door behind him. He still cradled the Styrofoam tray of food in one arm, so he deposited it on his worktable. He knew it probably was burgers and fries again; only when it was Sam who made the food run did Kevin get a salad or some fruit. He popped the lid—yep, a double cheeseburger with fries, and hey, a little plastic cup of coleslaw. He'd take it. Sometimes he wondered if he'd ever poop properly again.

He bit into the burger, tearing a hunk out of the meat and bun and chewing with greedy chomps. Three or four fries were crammed in, mushing up with the burger still in his mouth. He swallowed while stuffing more food in. He knew he could choke, but he was beyond hungry. That wasn't the only reason he was eating so fast though.

Crowley loved to mess with Kevin's mind. Hallucinations were a daily occurrence, courtesy of the King of Hell. It wouldn't take the blink of an eye for this burger to suddenly turn into a handful of intestines, or a steaming cow patty. Even though the object itself remained unchanged, Kevin found it impossible to get past the illusion, and as a result, threw out more food than he could afford to. So now he ate as fast as he could so the food would already be inside him before it could be toyed with.

Crumpling up the greasy wrapper and tossing it into the empty Styrofoam box, Kevin sat back while he carefully wiped his hands on the flimsy paper napkins. He could hear the faint murmur of voices outside his metal cubby. The various wards and runes scrawled all of inside and out of the cubby kept good and evil beings out, not sound waves. Kevin wondered if he should go back out and talk with the Winchesters. He knew they were trying to take care of him, keep him safe. They also desperately wanted his translations of the Word of God--an ancient tablet filled with incredible knowledge that was locked up in indecipherable symbols.

Indecipherable to everyone but him. Apparently God decided that Prophets should be able to translate his Word. Kevin wished that God had seen fit for Prophets to accomplish that without hours of dry reading, staring with moisture-depleted, red eyes, and crushing headaches. That would have been nice.

He rubbed his eyes. He still felt fatigued, but he could feel the food restoring him. Time to get back to work.

“Dean, I'm really worried about him. Every time we come here, Kevin is more strung out.” Sam ran a hand through his hair, forehead furrowed with concern.

Dean sighed. “Yeah, I know. I don't know what to do for him. Food, uppers, beer and water—I can handle that stuff. I can't help with the translating, and I don't know what to do for freaked-out Prophets.” He shook his head, the corners of his mouth turned down. “This is beyond me, bro. Between dealing with the fucking Leviathans, tracking Dick, and keeping an eye on Kevin, I'm feeling the pressure pretty bad myself.”

Sam caught Dean's hand and squeezed it, drawing Dean to a halt. “I don't know about Kevin, but I know what we can do for us, anyway. I'd like to get on my knees before you, suck you with my hands tied behind me.” He flicked his eyes at Dean. “Would that please you?”

“Sir.” Dean's voice was low and rich.

“Sir.” Sam's voice was soft and deferential, his head angled down. Dean reached a hand out and stroked his hair.

“Let's go then.”

They got in the Impala and drove away from the boat. Sam had to breathe slow and deep to keep his dick under control. He looked out of the corner of his eyes and caught Dean rubbing his fly. “Eyes front, Sam.” Sam obeyed, snapping his gaze to the road ahead.

Safely behind their closed doors at the bunker, Sam promptly undressed, folding his clothes neatly and leaving them next to the door with his boots. Naked, he walked over to where Dean stood and knelt before him, hands resting on his thighs, head bent. He waited.

“Go to the bathroom. Pee and clean yourself. Then go lie on the bed and wait for me.” When Sam stood up, Dean caught his hair with one hand, tugging it to bring their faces together. Dean kissed Sam hungrily, fiercely. Sam felt the thrill of it ripple through his body, stirring his cock to life and making his skin tingle. “Go!” Dean smacked Sam's ass, and Sam went.

When he came out of the bathroom, mouth minty fresh and ass rinsed clean, Dean had stripped to his black boxer briefs and was sitting on a chair next to the bed. “Come.” Sam got on the bed and lay down on his back. This was always their starting position, Sam's neutral, from which Dean would then direct him as he chose. Sam felt very exposed, as he always did; it was more than simply being naked, it was being naked in from of his Dom. Sam's skin felt every waft of air, and his dick lay rigid on his belly.

“Beautiful,” murmured Dean, standing up and stroking Sam's hair, then casually reaching down and stroking his erection. Sam whimpered faintly, and Dean gave his dick a little smack. “You know better than that,” he admonished softly. “Self-control, baby.”

Sam bit his lip. He did know better, and he knew that as much as Dean loved him, Dean was not going to get him get away with anything. But then Dean would give him everything.

Sam closed his eyes and gave himself up to his brother.

Kevin jolted awake, knocking some pens off his tiny desk as his arm jerked. He stared at the walls surrounding him, walls that were completely filled with scribbles, runes, sigils, in all different colors. It looked like a mathematician and a mystic had a child who'd developed schizophrenia. At this point, Kevin didn't even remember what they all meant or did. He just knew they helped to keep him safe.

Unfortunately, there were no toilet facilities in this little compartment, so Kevin had to crack the door and peer around the outer room in preparation for a bathroom trip. The room looked empty, but Kevin wasn't betting on it staying that way. He scurried across the room as fast as he could go and not pee himself, his bladder was so full. Apparently this was a good morning, because no demons appeared, no nasties materialized, no one tried to kill him or torture him. He slammed the bathroom door shut and scrabbled urgently at his fly, shoving his jeans down below his ass and yanking his dick out. Finally, sweet, sweet relief; urine cascaded from his dick, and the cramping in his gut eased. Kevin sighed; it felt so good, it was almost sexual. His dick agreed—no sooner did the last drops dribble out than it plumped, stiffening in his hand, issuing a different kind of demand. _Yeah, buddy, I wish you had something more than my hand,_ he thought, giving himself a couple of trial strokes. His cock got harder, moving by itself, and Kevin moaned. He couldn't be in a less sexy place, but goddamn if he didn't need to jerk off, relieve the pressure in his balls as much as he'd just done with his bladder. 

Kevin leaned against the wall, jacking himself with a steady rhythm, root to tip and back down. He closed his eyes, trying to pull up sexy images. He hadn't really watched porn back in his life as a would-be Princetonian, being too busy with studying or practicing, and there wasn't much for him to work with. He kept his eyes shut though, tugging at himself and flicking his thumb over the tip of his cock, rubbing at the slow bead of pre-come that welled up. His balls drew up, and his breathing grew short and hard.

He ran his fingers up and down the underside of his dick, alternating the teasing with the full-grip stroke, and he could feel the pressure of an orgasm just starting to build. Suddenly images of Sam and Dean popped into his head. Both were shirtless, shiny with sweat, the light playing up their muscled arms and torsos. Dean's chest was smooth, with a faint ginger trail under his navel running into his jeans, but Sam's chest boasted dark hair down his sternum and fanning over his pecs, then a dark trail down his abs into his jeans.

Their faces were partially hidden from Kevin because they were passionately kissing each other, Sam's large hands buried in Dean's light brown hair, Dean's hands clutching Sam's long locks. Kevin could almost hear the small moist noises of their kissing, the breathy moans and sighs. He could see bulges in their jeans, knew that if those zippers were to be opened, large, meaty cocks would thrust their way out, demanding to be touched or sucked. And god, did Kevin want to touch and suck them, even here in a dream.

Half-naked Winchesters engaging in incestuous kissing turned out to be a huge turn-on for Kevin; his cock stiffened and spat, spraying the bathroom floor and toilet with white, while Kevin groaned loudly and squeezed himself hard. He gasped when it ended, sagging against the wall, shaking his head to try and clear it from the fog of desire that had swirled through his brain. 

“Wow, where did that come from?” He asked himself aloud. “I know I need to get out more, meet some new people, but really? The Winchesters?” Not that they weren't hot, he mused as he zipped himself up and washed his hands. But kissing each other? Where did that little perversion come from? Maybe something evil had snuck through the sigils after all. He shook his head and grabbed some paper towels to wipe up his mess.

_Pretty damn hot though, Tran. Pretty. Damn. Hot._

The rest of the morning was far less eventful. Kevin studied the tablet, made some notes, did some reading. At lunchtime he opened a can of tuna and ate it plain from the can. He lay down and tried to take a nap, but Sam and Dean returned behind his eyelids, running their hands over each others' chests and arms, Dean taking particular care to tease Sam's nipples, making him clench his jaw until he finally grabbed Dean and kissed him hard. Kevin's cock rose again, and he undid his fly, jacking himself while he watched the show. What he would give to touch that skin, one fair and freckled and the other tan. All too quickly Kevin came, panting as he lay on his cot, his dick soft and sticky.

When he finally got up, he talked to himself again as he cleaned up. “You haven't seen anyone in a while. A long while. No wonder you're fantasizing about the only people you _do_ see. They're big and they're hot. It only makes sense.” He scoffed. “Not like it's remotely possible. Them together? Much less them with me.”

But the fantasy remained, and when he flopped onto his cot, exhausted, or his head bent down over his keyboard as he dozed off, the images of Sam and Dean, naked and intertwined, returned. And more and more often, they turned to him, reached out to him, and brought him into the circle of their combined arms.

“Okay, we gotta talk about this.” Dean sat down at the kitchen table. Sam set a plate of eggs and bacon in front of him, followed by a thick china mug of black coffee. Dean smiled appreciatively at him and dug in. Sam sat down with his own plate and mug, waiting quietly until Dean looked up and nodded at him, gesturing to Sam's plate with his fork. Sam began to eat.

“Thanks, bro. That hit the spot.” Dean got up to refill his coffee and put his plate in the sink, returning to his seat with a contented sigh. “What do you think, Sammy? About Kevin?”

Sam pushed his empty plate aside, stretching his legs out under the table. “I agree. I think he is fried mentally and completely strung out emotionally. His whole life has been disrupted; his girlfriend is dead, he's living like a fugitive, he can't contact his mother, and he's doing an almost impossible task that has world-shaking consequences. They guy just found out he's a fucking Prophet and that demons are real. Any one of those things would stress someone out, much less all of them together.” Sam drank some coffee. “Kevin's brilliant, creative—this kind of pressure is going to weigh on him far more than any other ordinary college student.”

“Exactly. He's reaching, if not at, his breaking point.” Dean got up and paced around the kitchen. “The question now is...what can we do for him?”

They were silent as they thought. Sam cleared his plate and mug, fetching a water bottle from the fridge. He tapped Dean on the shoulder and nodded toward the door. They left the kitchen, still silent, and went to the map room. Sam sat and propped his feet up on the map table, his eyes unseeing as he mused. Dean sat for a little while, but got up and left, taking the hallway Sam knew led to the garage. He smiled; Dean always thought a problem out better while polishing Baby.

It was Sam who had the idea though. It came to him as he drifted in thought, revisiting his own times of being sad and alone and under pressure. Even back at Stanford, he'd struggled with being alone until he'd met Jess. She'd been everything he wanted and needed, outside of Dean. Loving, warm, intelligent, sexy—and finally his Domme. In learning to submit to Jess, Sam had found a new facet of himself, and with that discovery, his world had settled into a new and more secure shape.

A shape he wondered if might help Kevin.

Dean had always thought of himself as an alpha male—bossy, in charge, authoritative. When he and Sam had reunited, including as lovers, Dean had thought they were both content. Not until a couple of years had gone by did Sam finally confess his need to his brother, kneeling before him in supplication. Dean was very casually familiar with D/s dynamics, but having it presented to him by the person he loved most drove him to read all he could in order to understand it properly. He was even able to have some conversations with individuals in the life before he accepted the responsibility of becoming Sam's Dom, a responsibility he took most seriously.

Dean and Sam didn't play outside their relationship, so Sam's idea of taking Kevin on as a sub initially shocked Dean. His first concern was whether Sam was unhappy or dissatisfied in any way. Once that fear had been laid to rest, Dean thought about it. Clearly it would be more work on him, being in charge of both Kevin and Sam. More responsibility. And what if Kevin wasn't interested? What if _Dean_ wasn't interested? He'd never thought abut Kevin like that. Dean knew there were subs where sex was not involved, but that wasn't how he worked as a Dom. If he took Kevin on, they'd be having sex, all three of them.

“We can work it out,” said Sam calmly. “First, let's just see if he's even interested. We'll take it from there.”

His serenity about it grounded Dean; if Sam was this unfazed, it was the path to take. “Okay, Sammy. Saddle up. We got someone to see.”

Kevin lay naked on his blanket in the middle of the berth. In his imagination, he was looking at the night sky and gazing at constellations, a sight denied to him in reality by fear of Crowley's harassment. He idly stroked his dick, not really pursuing an orgasm so much as enjoying the easy pleasure of his hand's friction. Dimly he felt he was turning into the rat who pushes the pleasure button all the time, turning to masturbation more and more often as a panacea for his fear and loneliness.

Whatever. He closed his eyes and the Winchesters appeared, nude and beautiful. Kevin's dick hardened and his lazy strokes sped up while he watched the brothers kiss and touch each other intimately. Soft moans entered his dream; he thought they were from Sam and Dean, but realized he was really the source. He didn't care, as long as he could stay here--

The door clanged open, and the dream-Winchesters vanished. Kevin's eyes popped open, his hand tightening on his cock. Looking down at him were...Sam and Dean. The real ones this time, complete with stubble and shadows under their eyes and those stupid canvas jackets. It took a moment for their reality to sink into Kevin's comprehension.

“We get here at a bad time?” drawled Dean, an eyebrow raised.

Sam averted his eyes. “Sorry for barging in...you weren't answering your texts and we were worried.”

Dean kept on staring at Kevin's cock—his eyes made Kevin feel very exposed. Well, he _was_ naked, but it was more than that. It was like Dean was staring _inside_ him. Dean snickered and said, “Want us to come back in a few minutes? Let you, uh, finish?” His eyes flicked up and down Kevin's body, and his cock jerked in his hand in response to that gaze.

“N...nuh...no,” stuttered Kevin. He managed to let go of himself and sit up, throwing the blanket over his lap. “I, uh...I'll get dressed.” He scrambled to his feet, keeping the blanket around his waist.

As he hurried to his bedroom, he heard Dean say, “Maybe I should kept him naked, save some time.”

“No, Dean, it's all got to be his choice, including surrendering his clothes.”

_What the fuck does that mean? What the hell are they here for?_ Kevin's thoughts sped up into high gear while he threw on his jeans and a grubby t-shirt. His erection faded under the weight of his anxiety, and Kevin took as deep a breath as he could manage before stepping back out into the main room.

“So, what are you guys doing here? Checking up on my progress?” Kevin leaned against a cabinet, hip tilted out, feet crossed. He tried to project some 'tude; it was all purely a facade for self-defense. Inside, something wriggled around in his stomach, and his hands felt sweaty. The Winchesters, of course, looked calm, cool, and in control.

“We came to talk to you, Kevin. It's plain to see that you're not doing well—I don't mean the work, I know you're doing everything you can on that. I mean you yourself. Physically. Emotionally. And for your sake and the sake of what you're working on, we need to talk about it and find some solutions.” Dean's voice was level and authoritative in such a way that it was a struggle for Kevin to not just get down on his knees at the command in that voice. He managed to keep his legs from trembling by locking his knees. Folding his arms across his chest, Kevin tilted his head in an attempt at jauntiness.

“Solutions to what? Who says there's a problem?” He felt stupidly proud of how he kept his voice even. “I'm doing just fine.”

“Kev,” said Sam in a soft, low voice. “You aren't eating properly. You clearly aren't sleeping well, if at all. Your nerves are shot. Your anxiety level and paranoia are higher each time we come here. I don't know how you are even getting by, much less working on a task like translating God's Word.” His eyes were sorrowful under a furrowed forehead, and Kevin wanted to go over and smooth it out with a swipe of his hand.

He couldn't move though, couldn't walk away or leave, couldn't get away from the things Sam and Dean were saying. It was all true, of course, every bit of it. Kevin knew he was close to losing himself, could feel his body slowing down, getting closer and closer to its breaking point. He was twenty-one going on eighty. But even with knowing it, even with hearing it said out loud to him, Kevin felt lost. He couldn't stop what he was doing; he couldn't start fixing anything. He was stuck in place while the quicksand rose around him and lightning moved in.

“Dude.” Kevin blinked—Dean was right in front of him, close enough that every freckle was laid out under Kevin's gaze. Before he got lost in the myriad cinnamon specks adorning Dean's skin, Dean put his hands on Kevin's shoulders. “We think, Sam and I together, that we might be able to help you. Can you keep an open mind?” 

Kevin nodded dumbly. He had no idea what Dean was talking about, but he had nothing to lose at the moment anyway. He tried to prepare himself for whatever Dean might say next.

“We want you to become our sub.”

Kevin stared, mouth agape. He hadn't been ready for that.

Sam and Dean talked about their life as Dom and sub, and Kevin listened in surprise and wonder. As the initial shock abated, Kevin felt more intrigued and—he wasn't gonna lie—turned on. Dean and Sam were both handsome, even beautiful, with strong, well-built bodies. Physically, they were undeniably attractive, and Kevin had realized in high school that he was probably bisexual. Then there was Sam's intelligence and empathy, and Dean's courage and the warm heart he hid under his veneer of macho bravado. That he, Kevin Tran, Advanced Placement Virgin, might get to be in bed with them, well...he could get behind that.

The whole Dom/sub thing—he'd read a little about it, but hadn't dreamed about ever trying it. Having Dean always tell him what to do might get a little trying. Plus Sam, although Dean's sub, would still be over Kevin in status, so _he_ might tell Kevin what to do too. That could really get old. On the other hand, maybe the sex would make it all worthwhile.

“Understand, Kevin, that I might be in charge of our lives, but you will always have an out. I want you to commit to this as deeply as possible, to power through things that might seem difficult in many ways. If you ever reach a point where it's too much, though, you can safe-word. Choose a word and when you say it, no mater what, everything stops.” Dean looked over at Sam. “Sam's safe word is Stanford.”

Kevin digested that information. The idea that something Dean did would be too much for him seemed weird. Anyway, it wouldn't hurt to pick a word.

“Princeton. My safe word is Princeton.”

Dean nodded and smiled. “My Ivy League boys.”

The first order of business was packing everything up and moving Kevin into the bunker. Flattened cardboard boxes were brought in from the Impala, and Kevin's meager belongings, his books and supplies, his personal items and clothes, were all packed up quickly. Dean was eager to be off, and Kevin certainly had no desire to dally in this bleak excuse for a home.

The bunker was a delight to comfort-starved Kevin. Well-lit, with comfortable furnishings and excellent water pressure, it truly felt homey. After Kevin dumped all of his boxes in the room Sam and Dean showed him, he took the most languorous, delicious shower he could ever remember taking. Thick towels waited on the towel bar. He dressed and went to the main room, where he was pleasantly surprised to find a freshly cooked burger and a mixed salad waiting for him.

“Dean did the burger—he really makes incredible ones, just taste it. I thought you'd appreciate some fresh green stuff.” Sam gestured at the food. Kevin was suddenly starving and sat down to eat. He'd given up his veganism; in a world filled with demons and monsters, a little red meat didn't seem like any big deal anymore.

While Sam hovered like a nervous parent, Dean sat down across from Kevin and looked him straight in the eye while he ate. “Tonight I just want you to eat and start regaining your health. In the future, you will wait to eat until I say it's all right. There may be times that you'll kneel on a cushion next to me and I'll feed you by my hand or from your dish. Your job is to obey my directions and eat as I choose, but my job is to feed you well and keep you nourished and healthy.”

Kevin gulped some water. This sub business was more involved than he thought.

“Later, we'll talk about collaring and what that means. For the time being you and I and Sam will just make a verbal agreement, but ultimately of course we'll want something more structured and binding.”

“Of course we will,” murmured Kevin. Dean gave him a sharp look, but Kevin just stared back blandly.

Sam put his hand over Kevin's, dwarfing it. Kevin studied the hands, analyzing the difference in size and color, even in skin texture. “I think this is gonna be really good for all of us,” Sam said in his soft voice. “It's just going to take a little time to...adjust.”

_Adjust? Just how much is there to adjust to?_ gibbered a little voice in the back of Kevin's head. He felt fatigued and overwhelmed. “Could I just go to bed now? I'm very tired.” He tried to keep his voice level, but it ended on a querulous note.

“Of course. Tomorrow we can start going over things. For now, get some rest.” Dean stood up, and Sam stood up as soon as Dean did. Somehow that bothered Kevin, but he couldn't think about it. He couldn't think about anything anymore.

He muttered, “Good night,” and hurried from the kitchen to his room, his pace picking up until he was almost running by the time he got there. He slammed the door and fumbled for the lock.

There wasn't one.

He curled up on the bed, still fully clothed, and pulled the blanket over him.

Eventually he must have fallen asleep, because he opened his eyes and found it was morning. There were no windows, but he had a clock on the wall and he didn't think it was 7:30 p.m. Coffee scented the air, and Kevin was ready to venture back to the kitchen in search of food.

Food there was—scrambled eggs, home fries, and plenty of crispy bacon, along with coffee and juice. Sam and Dean were not to be seen; all the burners were off but the pans sat on the stove with lids on them. Kevin retrieved a plate and helped himself to some of everything. He put his plate on the table and poured himself a large mug of coffee, and that was when Dean appeared.

“Sit. When I say, you can begin to eat.”

Kevin rolled his eyes but nodded. Dean came over and pulled him upright, turning him around. “You will not show me disrespect by doing things like rolling your eyes. Every time you do, there will be punishment.” Dean administered ten spanks to Kevin's butt. Kevin gasped in shock. The spanks were not particularly painful, but were certainly firmly planted. “Now sit down and eat.”

Kevin re-took his seat, feeling pouty and put-upon. Nonetheless he was hungry, so he began to eat. The food was delicious, and he cleared his plate quickly. The resentment of the spanking had receded as the food improved his mood, so he gave Dean a little smile.

“What should you say to me?” prompted Dean.

“Um...thank you.” Kevin felt like a toddler learning manners.

“Now go brush, make your bed, tidy your room. Then Sam will take you to work on the tablet.”

Kevin resisted the temptation to huff out of the room--he wasn't eager for more spanking. He did exit with a stiff back and without looking at Dean. As he left the room, he heard Dean sigh.

“Dean? What's going on with Kevin? It's been a few days and, um...well, I miss my Dom.” Sam knelt and bowed his head, hands on his thighs, struggling with his hunger for his Dom. “Sir, your sub begs to serve you.”

Dean stroked Sam's dark, silky hair. “I miss you too, baby. I'm trying to get him into the groove, but he's digging his heels in. Nothing really overt, but just those constant little sighs and huffs and eye rolls. He's just skirting the line of obeying, but there's no actual submission going on.” Dean sighed and shook his head. “I'm afraid I'm not doing this right somehow. With you, it was so...so easy, so natural. Maybe I can't break in another sub.” He tilted up Sam's face and kissed him, flooding Sam with warmth and happiness. “Maybe you've spoiled me, my pet.”

Sam stayed silent, but apparently Dean could tell his brother was biting his tongue. He tapped Sam's head. “Speak freely.”

“Maybe we're trying to ease him into it too gently. He doesn't think it's a big deal, that there's any real difference in his life. Maybe we need to do a full-scale change, let him learn how different it really is. How submission can help him.” Sam spoke calmly, like he was discussing a software upgrade.

“Hmm. That's not a bad idea.” He kissed Sam again. “And I apologize for not taking proper care of you the last few days. Training Kevin should not keep me from giving you what you need too.” He opened his belt and fly, pushing his jeans down to his ass before sitting down and pulling his cock out. “Come suck me. Make me come in ten minutes and you can come.”

A thrill of excitement shot through Sam; his cock stiffened, and his mouth watered for the taste of Dean's dick. He eagerly crawled between Dean's knees. “Thank you, Master!”

Kevin lay on his bed, feeling lazy and a little bored. Physically, he felt much better than when he'd first arrived at the bunker. Regular meals, not staying up to all hours, and even some exercise had all helped him gain a little weight and feel stronger than he had in months.

He just didn't really get what was happening with Dean and Sam. Dean was doing this lame ordering-Kevin-around shit, Sam was just kinda moping around, and there wasn't any sex. Wasn't there supposed to be kinky sex going on? Where was the sex dungeon? He was getting ripped off here.

The door to his room banged open, the sudden noise causing Kevin to just about levitate off the bed. “Dean! What the fuck, man!” Kevin yelled so loud it hurt his throat.

Dean stood in the doorway in a black tee, black jeans, and black boots. “This isn't working out, Kevin, so it's time for things to change.” He took two strides into the room and stopped, crossing his enormous arms in front of his chest. _God, those biceps have never looked bigger,_ Kevin thought. “Come here, Kevin,” Dean commanded.

Kevin was _done_. Done with farting around, done with being told what to do, done with Dean. “Fuck. You. Winchester.”

The next instant, his face was pressed against the bunker's floor, with one of Dean's hands gripping hard around the back of his neck. “The correct response is, 'Yes, sir!' Got it?” Dean gave Kevin a little shake.

“Uh, sure.” Another shake, this one a little harder. “Yes, sir!” Clearly Dean was high or something, so Kevin was just going to play along.

The hand disappeared, so Kevin sat up slowly. Dean looked about a mile tall from Kevin's vantage point there on the floor.

“I'm reminding you that you agreed to this—you agreed to become our sub as a way of dealing with the chaos of your life now. I've been trying to be gentle with you, give you an easy start, but it's gotten us nowhere. You're as lost as when you first got here, and I'm majorly frustrated and pissed off. Sam here has been neglected and overlooked in our attempts to deal with you. Well, that is all over.”

“Starting with a haircut and some new clothes, you will spend your time in whatever way I tell you, whether it is work or sex or watching paint dry. You will eat on my command, crap on my command, come on my command, and you will lean to do it willingly. You will experience the joy and the pain of being a sub, and you will be damn lucky that it's someone like me and not someone who confuses a sub with a slave.”

Kevin was dumbstruck, sitting on the floor with his mouth hanging open.

“Come with me.” Dean walked out of the room, not even looking to see if Kevin was following. Sam followed.

Kevin didn't.

“The fuck, man! What on earth--” Kevin sputtered. Dean came back in the room and grabbed Kevin by the back of the neck again. Kevin squawked as he was towed down the hallway and thrust into a large bathroom.

Sam had gotten there before him already, standing next to a chair placed on some spread-out newspapers. He held a barber's clipper in his hand. “Have a seat, Kevin. I'll be quick.”

Kevin looked back and forth between them. “Are you kidding me? I know it's a little shaggy.” Truth be told, it was more than shaggy. Kevin's hair had been growing for months with nary a trim. It was bothering him, the way it trailed in his eyes when he was working. But he sure wasn't going to admit that right now.

“It's out of control, just like you are. So it's the first thing we're doing to get you back in control,” Dean said calmly. He pushed Kevin into the chair and clamped his hands down on Kevin's shoulders. They felt like concrete, holding him down firmly, unable to escape the buzzing clippers drawing near. Kevin hoped desperately that they didn't make him look like a nerd.

He didn't look like a nerd. There would have had to be hair left for that. There wasn't.

When Kevin was allowed to stand after Sam put the clippers down, the newspapers underneath his chair were covered with thick black hair. He ran an unbelieving hand over his head, feeling the stubble covering his scalp; all that remained of his hair.

“You dick! I can't believe--” was as far as Kevin got before a big red ball was stuffed into his mouth. It was attached to wide black elastic that Dean pulled around Kevin's naked head. Even Kevin had seen a ball gag before. All he could do now was grunt or squeal, as he immediately discovered.

Kevin was too shocked to attempt a reply. He got up meekly and followed Dean to his bedroom. Kevin knew that Sam had his own room, just like Kevin did, but most of the time he slept in Dean's much larger bedroom. That was where Dean led him.

Kevin hadn't been in Dean's room before. There were weapons displayed on the walls, which created a unique atmosphere, and a king-size bed with half a dozen pillows. Along one wall was a old-fashioned camping cot, canvas on a thick wire frame. A small pillow and a folded up blanket rested on it.

“This is where you'll sleep. I want you near me. You might share the bed with Sam and I on occasion, but this is yours and yours alone.”

Dean walked over to the big bed and patted a small pile of clothing. “Here are your clothes. This is all you'll wear for the time being.” He pulled the top item up. It appeared to be more straps than actual fabric. “Go ahead and take those things off.”

Kevin slowly unbuttoned his overshirt and dropped it. He was pulling his t-shirt off when Dean said, “Speed it up.” Kevin sped it up, dropping the t-shirt and quickly getting out of his pants. “Underwear too.” Kevin pushed his navy briefs down to join the rest of his clothes on the floor.

He felt very exposed, beyond simply being naked; it was like everything he was composed of was displayed before Dean, and now Sam too, as he entered the room and joined them. It felt like they were studying every bit of him. In addition to that, Kevin found out how difficult it was to swallow properly with the ball-gag in place; saliva seeped down his chin and dripped onto his chest and the floor. There was nothing he could do about it, and clearly it wasn't fazing Dean.

“Pretty nice body you're hiding under the baggy clothes, dude.” Dean said appreciatively. He came over and ran his hand down Kevin's chest, massaging his pecs and pinching one nipple, grinning at Kevin's jump. “Sam, come check him out. Look at those muscles! Who'd a guessed?” His hands continued their journey down Kevin's back, cupping and massaging the globes of his ass. Goddamn if it didn't feel good—Rosy Palm and her five sisters had been Kevin's only partner, and to feel hands on him, strong hands, capable hands, kneading his buttocks like taffy felt really fucking good. His dick stirred and gave a jump of approval.

“Dean, you're getting him hard. What a pretty dick you have, Kev.” Sam's voice was approving, but he didn't touch Kevin. He wondered if Sam needed permission.

“Go ahead, Sammy. Give him a squeeze. His ass is ridiculously firm.” Dean came back around to Kevin's front, and he chuckled when he saw Kevin's cock at half-mast. “Oh yeah! Now we're talking. I think we need to start this aspect of training too.” Dean stared into Kevin' eyes. “Are you ready for this?” He reached over and unfastened the ball gag, pulling it gently free and tossing it onto the cot. Kevin went to wipe his mouth and chin with his hand, but Sam handed him a handkerchief. “Well?” Dean asked.

Kevin nodded. Anything that had him in bed with these two men was a definite yes.

Dean moved the small pile of clothing over to the cot and Sam turned down the burgundy comforter. The sheets were plain white, almost surprisingly ordinary. Sam and Dean both undressed quickly and got onto the bed. They kissed, and Kevin's cock stiffened further at witnessing that hotness. Just seeing them naked in real life and not just his imagination was pretty heady stuff, those strong, well-muscled bodies _right there_ within reach, much less watching them make out, the soft, wet smacks of their kisses filling the air.

He stood there awkwardly; naked, hard, unable to tear his eyes away from the erotic sight of Sam and Dean entwined. It was better than any of his previous fantasies. Sam was larger, but Dean was definitely in charge, speaking a quiet word or physically moving a pliable Sam. Kevin yearned to join in, biting his lip to keep from whimpering. His balls ached, and his cock drooled a shiny string of pre-come. He wrapped his arms around himself so that he wouldn't start jerking off.

Dean broke away from Sam, pushing his sub down flat onto the mattress. “Stay,” he ordered to Sam. Turning to Kevin, Dean said, “Get on the bed.”

Kevin practically jumped onto the bed, his cock bobbing madly. Dean chuckled and batted it, making it wobble again. He took Kevin's arm and pulled him up to the head of the bed. Kevin saw Sam's eyes track him, but he didn't say or do anything. His cock jutted up from his groin, and Kevin's eyes widened as he looked at it. It was larger than he'd even imagined—darkly flushed, a slight curve so that it arced toward Sam's belly. Pre-come beaded at his slit and slowly uncurled down the thick shaft. Kevin wanted to lick that glistening trail off.

“Like that?” Dean purred in Kevin's ear, looking at Sam as well. “It's fucking magnificent, isn't it? I know you wanna touch it, suck it, right?” Kevin nodded eagerly. “Gotta wait. Gotta do what I say, when I say it, remember?” Kevin nodded again, more slowly this time. “Remember, Kevin, you have your safe-word. What is it?”

“Princeton.”

“That's right. Now I want you to go straddle Sam's face, and he's gonna suck your balls and cock.”

More pre-come bubbled up and ran down Kevin's cock. He knee-walked up the bed and then swung one leg over Sam's face. No sooner had he balanced himself than he felt Sam's mouth on his balls, hot and wet. Sam suckled on one, gentle suction while he ran his tongue around it, then released it to do the same to the other. Kevin gasped as the slippery pressure of Sam's tongue ran over his hole. This was all pleasures undreamed of for Kevin.

He came out of his daze and saw Dean slowly stroking himself while he watched them. “That's enough, Sam.” The tongue abandoned Kevin, the loss forcing a whimper from him. “Self-control, Kevin,” said Dean, and he smacked Kevin's dick hard. It smarted and swung to the side, returning to bob gently. The pain was filled with pleasure, or vice versa; it was all new, heady stuff for Kevin. 

Dean reached into the night table's drawer and pulled out something dark, snapping it expertly around Kevin's cock. He stared at the ring—it looked like leather, smooth against his skin but confining him tightly. “You're not allowed to come, and I know you don't have the control for that yet, so this will help,” Dean explained. “Now I'm ready to fuck my brother, and I want you to kneel right next to us and watch.”

Kevin thought he would lose his mind, watching them fuck. It had to be better than any porno. Dean slapped Sam's ass and told him to turn over, ass up. Sam complied, his forearms on the bed and his ass high in the air as it waited for Dean. Sam's ass—Kevin hadn't seen that many butts in his life, but surely Sam's had to be cream of the crop. Two smooth globes with a tempting cleft, set atop long, strong thighs, his back two thick sweeps of muscle in a sweet curve.

Dean was stunning too; thick thighs, massive biceps, ridiculously wide shoulders, all covered in pale skin liberally spattered with freckles. The contrast between his skin and Sam's tan skin was beautiful. Dean put a hand on each cheek and spread Sam wide, bending over to run his tongue over Sam's hole. He licked over it several times, stopping to stab at it with his tongue and then lap at it again. The sight turned Kevin on hugely; watching Dean lick Sam made Kevin feel the delicious sensation of Sam licking at him all over again. It felt harder to breathe, and Kevin trembled a little as he fought his arousal, aided by the snug ring binding him.

Now Dean and Sam were both panting, Sam's hands clenching the sheet when Dean straightened up and pushed into him. Kevin thought his eyes would pop out, watching Dean's fat cock slowly sink into Sam's hole, marveling at how that little pink furl could stretch to accommodate Dean. When Dean pulled back, Kevin could see the shine of lube coating his dick, deepening the dark pink of it. Kevin's own cock complained at its restraint, jerking and dripping. He longed to touch, to bury his face in Sam's ass, Dean's chest, lick Dean's dusky rose nipples. He could fucking smell both men, their spicy sweat, the thick smell of arousal like some exotic perfume. It made him dizzy.

“Fuck, Sam, so fuckin' tight...all the time, you drive me out of my fuckin' mind!” Dean's voice was deep and hoarse, his words coming out in short bursts between pants. He was fucking Sam hard now, his hands locked on Sam's hips, his legs straight and feet braced on the mattress as he hammered down into Sam. Kevin wondered why Sam was so quiet until Dean said, “Wanna hear you, baby.” Sam immediately howled before steadily grunting and making inarticulate moans. “Yeah, that's it...my hot little brother, no one like you, Sammy, no one like you...oh, fuck!”

Dean dropped back onto his knees, digging his fingers into Sam's hips and thrusting madly. The slap of flesh joined the symphony of noises, the raw animal sound of it sending Kevin's need spiraling upward. His dick was dark with trapped blood, the veins pulsing, and he felt like he would fall apart with a touch. He tore his eyes away from Dean's hips and looked at Sam's cock, swinging heavily under his belly from the motion of Dean's pounding. Sam's hands were fists in the sheet, and his face was locked in a grimace that looked like pain, except Kevin was sure it had to be unbearable pleasure.

“Come, Sammy! Oh god, I'm coming, oh... _fuck!_ Dean slapped Sam's ass, leaving a pink mark, then did it again and again as he ground against Sam's body. Sam howled again, and Kevin saw his dick spurt all over the sheet, twitching and jerking to empty itself. Dean lay down along Sam's back, moaning and rubbing his face into Sam's skin, his hips still bucking albeit slower and slower. They both stilled, harsh breaths slowing, Dean's hands running gently up and down Sam's sides.

Finally Dean pulled out and rolled off next to Sam, who had rolled over away from the wet spot and was lying with his arm flung over his face. They cuddled, sharing soft kisses while Dean trailed his hand over Sam's body. It was beautiful, it was sweet, and Kevin would have been starry-eyed for them were he not kneeling there with the hard-on to end all hard-ons and a fucking cock ring.

He didn't dare speak, lest he lose all chance of coming at all. So he knelt--cock straining, balls aching, air redolent of come, sweaty sated men in front of him--and he waited.

Kevin didn't know how long he waited like that, but at last Dean stirred. He sat up and looked at Kevin approvingly. “You're doing well. I'm pleased how patiently you're waiting, and so I'll give you a reward.” He reached out and pushed Kevin onto his back, pulling his legs wide. “Sam, get the lube.” Dean massaged Kevin's stiff thigh muscles while Sam found the lube.

Dean put the pad of his thumb on Kevin's hole, rubbing all around it. Kevin's breath hitched, and Dean chuckled. “You're going to like this.” He gestured to Sam. Sam opened the lube and drizzled some on a finger, then over Kevin's hole. It was cool and weirdly slippery, but Kevin couldn't think too much about that because Sam's finger pressed into him.

Kevin had tried this on himself in the past, but it hadn't seemed like any big deal. This? This was a big damn deal. Sam's finger had to be twice as long and thick as Kevin's, and it left no doubt that something was in Kevin's ass. At first, he had a difficult time between feeling oddly full and being stimulated. Sam pumped his finger in and out, and stimulated quickly took over. Before long, Kevin was whining and wriggling and pleading for another finger.

“Please...please, more. Please, Dean...” Kevin glanced at Dean and he nodded to Sam.

“Another.”

The second finger felt even better, and Kevin panted and scrabbled at the sheet. He longed to squeeze his cock, but he was pretty sure that if he did that without permission, there would be undesirable consequences. So he groaned and tried to push against Sam's hand.

“Damn, Sammy, who knew what a needy little thing he is, huh? Look at his ass swallow your fingers!” Dean sounded amused; he was propped up on his elbow watching Sam finger Kevin. Sam didn't say anything, but he had a dirty smile on his face while he varied the speed at which his fingers moved in and out of Kevin's ass. “What do you think, Sam? Can he take one more?”

Kevin nodded frantically, huffing “Yes, yes, yes...please, yes, another one, please...” He spread his legs as wide as he could, well past the point of shameless and into downright slutty.

“Go ahead, give him one more. That's it though, you gotta come on that or you don't come.” Dean admonished.

Kevin was so strung out and on edge, he didn't doubt that he could come on Sam's three fingers alone, He never realized how good something in his ass could make him feel. But with that cock ring, almost invisibly nestled in his black pubic hair, Kevin wasn't coming ever.

He fretted about saying something to Dean about the ring, even while his hips churned and he fucked himself down on Sam's fingers. Was it okay to ask? Maybe Dean forgot? His cock felt heavy and bloated as it bounced on his stomach, the head almost purple as it smack into a puddle of pre-come.

Sam saved him. Sam tapped on his lips, and Dean nodded that he could speak. “Master, Kevin still has the cock ring. If you wish to allow him to come, may I remove it?”

“Yes. He's done well for his first time, and he can come. But note, Kevin, you won't always be allowed to come, so appreciate this favor.” Dean sat up cross-legged, apparently to see Kevin's climax better, judging by the way he leaned forward eagerly.

Sam pulled almost all the way out of Kevin, then pushed his three fingers back in. Kevin felt his eyes rolling in pleasure. Sam pumped a few times, then Kevin felt his fingertips push on something deep inside. Showers of sparks ignited in his brain, lifting his hips off the bed. The cock ring suddenly disappeared, Sam _pushed_ on that deep spot inside him, and Kevin screamed as the tidal wave of his orgasm broke over him, swirling hot currents of bliss around him while his cock spurted come all over his torso in thick ribbons.

Kevin lay stunned, the force of his climax leaving him drained. His whole body hummed with the aftermath, a muted buzzing of nerves that relaxed him both physically and mentally. He felt peaceful and calm, yet not in a drugged way; it was more like he was in harmony within himself and with the world. 

Lips pressed against his forehead, and he opened his eyes. Clear green eyes looked back at him. “This is what I want to give you, what Sam and I are offering you. It's not all about the sex, although the sex is goddamn awesome. It's the rest. The peace. It's giving up some freedom to learn a whole new kind of life. Do you think you want to learn more? It's not always going to be easy, but it'll be worth it.”

Green eyes were replaced with hazel, fringed by dark hair. “If you take this road, you'll be my brother. Whatever I have, you'll have half.” Sam smiled as he looked at Dean, then back at Kevin. “Dean is fair. He's not perfect, but he never does less than his best. I love him with everything I am.”

Sam and Dean kissed, and Kevin watched him while he thought about the offer. Really thought about it this time, balancing what he felt and thought with what he'd seen and learned already. Two pairs of eyes studied him, intense but unhurried. 

“Yes,” said Kevin. “Yes please, Master.”


End file.
